


i see galaxies in your eyes

by cosmogony



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Bokuto Koutarou is a Good Friend, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling in Love (again), Flashbacks, Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Violence, Past Character Death, Past Lives, Reincarnation, Shooting Stars, Side pairing- bokuaka, Soulmates, i know it says character death but please trust me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24050893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmogony/pseuds/cosmogony
Summary: “They say if you wish upon a falling star, it has to come true.”Kenma hummed in affirmation. He had also heard that myth, mostly whispered by some of the women in his town. “What are you going to wish for?”“I wish that we get to spend our next lifetime together. A lifetime where I can see you every day, and we can be happy together.”Kenma hummed again. “I wish for that too.”----After a chance meeting during a meteor shower, Kuroo and Kenma begin to have strange dreams. Dreams that feel just a touch too real for them to simply ignore. //Kuroken Reincarnation AU
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 98
Kudos: 584
Collections: Recommended KuroKen Fics





	i see galaxies in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [В твоих глазах я вижу галактики](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27745009) by [silvermeteor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvermeteor/pseuds/silvermeteor)



> This is my first time writing something for the Haikyuu fandom, and I'm super excited to share it!!! This was inspired by one line of dialogue I came up with in the middle of the night, and I hope y'all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)
> 
> Also, a huge thank you to my amazing beta reader, [Neens](https://twitter.com/neenswrites) , for helping me with this every step of the way (it literally wouldn't exist without her, I can't thank her enough)

13XX, Japan

Kenma was glad for the silence that sitting on the outskirts of the woods provided. Some may have said it was dangerous for him to be alone in the middle of the night completely unarmed, but he had never felt more at peace. With a view of a lake that reflected the night sky, the area was truly beautiful. The subtle breeze caused his dark hair to blow and billow around his face, but he didn’t mind constantly pushing it back. He shivered as a colder gust of wind blew past him and wrapped his arms tightly around himself. It always started to get cold this time of year. 

He exhaled, pressing his back against the trunk of the tree. Until Kuroo arrived, he was content to stare up at the stars. They were particularly brilliant tonight, each one like an individual diamond pinned to the dark expanse of sky overhead. They appeared closer than usual, almost as though they were in reach. 

Eventually, Kenma heard footsteps coming towards him. He’d recognise that pattern of footfall anywhere. He turned his gaze from the stars to the source of the steps, watching as Kuroo came closer. 

“Kenma.” Kuroo always said Kenma’s name like a prayer, as though each syllable had important meaning that only he knew. “Sorry if I kept you waiting for too long.” He smiled down at Kenma before sitting beside him. Kenma instantly reached across and intertwined their hands, aching to feel some sort of physical closeness. It had been far too long since they had last seen each other. A month and two weeks, to be exact. 

Kenma leant across and pressed a soft kiss onto the corner of Kuroo’s mouth. “I didn’t wait long at all, I was a bit later than our agreed time, too.” That was a lie, Kenma was almost certain he had actually been early. But that didn’t matter so long as he managed to stop Kuroo feeling whatever guilt he was harbouring. 

Kuroo reached across to pull Kenma into his lap, drawing out the kiss. He straddled Kuroo, placing his legs outside of his, cupping Kuroo’s face with his hands, and tilting his head upwards to deepen their kiss further. Kenma had missed this affection, had missed seeing Kuroo on a weekly basis as they had as children. Things had been easier when they were younger. Their small towns hadn’t been on bad terms back then, they hadn’t had to worry about some impending war breaking out. Kuroo hadn’t had to do so much work for their chief, but now, as his son, he was almost constantly involved in setting up trade deals and training to take over his father’s positions. And back then Kenma hadn’t been scouted as a strategist for his own town. He missed the days when life hadn’t been so hectic. 

But right now, wrapped in Kuroo’s warmth and embrace, he didn’t have to think about that. All he could think about was  _ Kuroo, Kuroo, Kuroo.  _

“I missed you,” Kuroo mumbled into Kenma’s skin as he buried his face in Kenma’s neck. “You have no idea how much I missed you.” His voice was barely a whisper now, and Kenma was sure that if he hadn’t been so close, he wouldn’t have heard it at all. 

Kenma ran a hand through Kuroo’s hair, brushing it back. He had always loved the feeling of Kuroo’s hair between his fingers. “I missed you too,” Kenma murmured before placing another kiss to the crown of Kuroo’s head. “It’s nice to see you again.” 

In response to that, Kuroo only wrapped his arms around Kenma and pulled him impossibly closer. The breeze certainly wasn’t bothering Kenma any more, not when he had Kuroo’s warmth to shield him. 

Eventually, Kenma pulled back, earning a soft whine from Kuroo at the loss of contact. Kenma pressed another chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Shh,” Kenma cooed, pulling out of Kuroo’s lap and moving to sit beside him again. “I missed talking to you, too. Tell me how you’ve been.” Kenma intertwined their fingers again before Kuroo pulled Kenma’s hand up to his lips, kissing the back of his hand. 

“Things are getting bad, Kenma.” Kuroo’s eyes were downcast, not looking up into Kenma’s own. “My father is growing more restless with each passing day. He’s becoming… greedier. He wants more area and land. And I’m worried about what he’ll do to get it.”

There was a look in Kuroo’s eyes that Kenma didn’t know how to describe. He looked sad, but somehow worse than that. 

Defeated. 

“Whatever happens, it will be okay, Kuro.” Kenma would have done anything to make Kuroo feel better, but he knew he didn’t have the words to convey that. He hoped that by letting his head fall and rest on Kuroo’s shoulder, that he’d know he was there for him. That he’d always be there for him. 

“What if it’s not okay?” Kuroo mumbled. “He’s talking about a battle.  _ Starting a war.  _ The man’s going crazy.” 

It was only at that moment that Kenma realised how terrified Kuroo really was. He’d always looked up to his father. Seeing him make unethical choices must have been weighing a toll, especially if Kuroo was unable to stop them. Kenma knew Kuroo; he knew that somehow he’d begin to blame himself for any of it. 

“Kenma, if he starts a war, I’ll have to battle. I’ll have to hurt people and kill people and do unspeakable things.” Kuroo’s voice cracked towards the end of the sentence. Kenma squeezed his hand in support. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.” 

As much as the thought didn’t sit well in Kenma’s stomach, he had to say something, anything, to make it better. “Something you’re forced to do doesn’t make you any less of a good person.” Kenma believed that statement with his whole heart. This was Kuroo. His Kuroo. His beautiful, intelligent and kind Kuroo, who was struggling with the thought that he’d ever have to harm someone. “Just come back to me in one piece, please.” That was all Kenma cared about. His Kuroo coming back to him. “Maybe I’ll even get a chance to see you out there. I’m a young, relatively healthy male. I could be asked to fight. Be conscripted.” 

Kuroo’s head snapped down to look at Kenma as he leant forward, eyes wide with panic. “No, no, no, no, you couldn’t, right? You’re a strategist… you’re too valuable to go out on the front lines. Oh, Gods, they’d have to keep you safe, right? I- I can’t stand the mere thought of something happening to you.” 

In response to Kuroo’s panicked babbling, Kenma lifted his free hand to rest against Kuroo’s cheek. “Nothing’s set in stone. There’s no reason to worry about hypotheticals just yet.” Kuroo had always had a terrible habit of worrying about what-ifs, ever since Kenma had first met him as a child. First, he had worried that they’d get caught talking, as even the act of knowing someone from their opposing towns was a crime. Then, he’d worried that Kenma might not return his feelings. And finally, he worried that one day they’d be followed and caught being together. None of those things had ever come to pass. 

Kenma hoped the same for this worry. 

He pushed Kuroo back down gently so he was laying on his back. Kenma slid down to join him lying on the ground, resting his head on Kuroo’s chest as he wrapped an arm around him. 

“Fate really was against us in this life,” Kuroo concludes, gazing up at the stars wistfully. “Perhaps in the next life, we’ll be together. The Gods owe us that much.”

A sigh escaped Kenma’s lips at the thought. “How could you be so confident that a higher power like that exists?” 

“How could I not be?” Kuroo replies, wrapping his arm around Kenma tighter than before.

“What do you mean?” 

“Someone like you exists, Kenma. That doesn’t just happen by chance.” A bright blush instantly spread over Kenma’s face, and he was glad that it was far too dark for Kuroo to see it. Warmth spread through Kenma’s chest, and he nuzzled into Kuroo closer. 

Kuroo spoke again before Kenma had ample time to think of a suitable reply for a statement as grand as that, and he was grateful for the subject change. He’d never been able to be a romantic like Kuroo was. 

“Look! Kenma, falling stars!” Kuroo exclaimed. And he was right. Above their heads, tens of hundreds of bright stars began to dash across the sky, illuminating the night. It was a brilliant display, each star streaking and leaving a white trail in its wake. They looked like thousands of diamonds, a fine display of jewellery shimmering against the dark sky. “They’re beautiful.”

Kenma craned his neck to look up at Kuroo, watching his eyes light up as they reflected each star that fell. “They really are beautiful, Kuro.” Kenma couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face. No matter what happened in the future, he knew at least he’d be able to treasure this moment. 

“They say if you wish upon a falling star, it has to come true.” 

Kenma hummed in affirmation. He had also heard that myth, mostly whispered by some of the women in his town. “What are you going to wish for?” 

“I wish that we get to spend our next lifetime together. A lifetime where I can see you every day, and we can be happy together.” 

Kenma hummed again. “I wish for that too.” 

* * *

20XX, Japan

If Kenma’s phone buzzed one more time, he was surely going to kill whoever was on the other end. What kind of ungodly person rang someone this early in the morning? And then had the audacity to keep ringing when their call wasn’t answered the first time?

Kenma groaned into his pillow before rolling over to grab his phone from the nightstand. As he did, yet another call came through. Caller ID: Lev. 

Of course it was Lev. There wasn’t anyone else on the planet who’d ring someone seven times to no avail, and then keep persisting. 

Kenma pressed the answer button more forcefully than he had meant to, and held the phone up to his ear. “What?” 

“Good morning Kenma-san!” Lev’s voice was irritatingly cheery. Kenma would never understand people who could be happy before midday. “You didn’t answer the first few times I called, so I thought I’d just keep calling till you did. And it worked!”

Kenma wished Lev was in view, so he could give him the nastiest death-stare he could muster. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” 

“It’s 8 A.M. Awake time.” Lev’s tone was absolute, and Kenma knew there was no point in arguing with him. He would have had to get up in an hour for class, anyway. He may as well humour Lev. 

“Fine, fine. Do you have a good reason for calling?” 

“Yeah!” Lev’s voice boomed through the speaker, causing Kenma to flinch and hold his phone further away from his face. Lev’s neverending enthusiasm was exhausting. “Why don’t you come with me and Yaku tonight?”

Kenma scrunched his eyes shut. Lev hadn’t even said what he wanted Kenma to attend yet, and Kenma was already exhausted. He ran a hand through his hair, scared to ask his next question. “Come with you where?”

“Don’t you read the news, Kenma-san? There’s going to be an amazing meteor shower tonight. At like, almost exactly midnight! Astronomers are saying it’s a once in a lifetime kind of thing. So Yaku and I are going to head down to a park and watch it! Heaps of other uni students will be there too. Whaddaya say?”

It sounded like Hell. A crowd, late at night, with Lev as company? Just to see some stars? Kenma would have much preferred to be home with his copy of  _ Animal Crossing.  _ At least the falling stars there were useful.

“I think I’ll pass third-wheeling you and Yaku, and please Lev, how many times do I have to tell you to drop the san.” It was far too early for Kenma to be dealing with this. 

“Sorry Kenma! I always forget. And you have to come!” 

“No, I don’t.” Kenma murmured into the mic of his phone.  _ Why was Lev so persistent about all this?  _ “Lev, please-”

“I won’t bother you to help me study for math for the rest of the year.”  _ Lev was making bargains now?  _ Despite Kenma knowing there were only around three months of the year to go… the thought was too tempting. Lev knocking on the door of his apartment at 5.A.M. to ask for help with polynomials was not something Kenma wanted to repeat. 

“Fine, I’ll go. But you better hold your word on the math thing.” Kenma hung up the phone and flung it down onto the mattress beside him with a sigh. 

It was going to be a long day. 

* * *

“You seem more tired than usual,” Akaashi commented, shoving his books back into his backpack. As he completed that, he turned to Kenma, awaiting some form of explanation. Kenma was usually glad to have someone to share his classes with, even though Akaashi was studying graphic design, something very different from Kenma’s coding and computer science. Today, however, he was not so glad. 

“Thank you, Akaashi, for pointing that out.” Kenma buried his face in his hands, elbows on one of the benches of the computer lab. “Have you ever met my highschool friend, Lev? He woke me up.” 

“The one you always help with math?” Kenma hated that him helping Lev with math was so common that even Akaashi knew about it.

Kenma pushed back on the bench, his seat rolling back so he could stand. “Yes, he wants me to go out with him and his…” It was only at this moment that Kenma realised he had no idea what the relationship between Lev and Yaku could be defined as. “Our other high school friend.”

“Where will you be going?” Akaashi asked, one eyebrow quirked. He stood at the same time Kenma did, adjusting his glasses after slinging his backpack on. 

Kenma sighed as he remembered. “Some park to watch some shooting stars.” He wished he could be more enthusiastic about the whole ordeal. 

Akaashi smiled at that as they began to exit their class. “Funny you say that, I’ll be there too, if it’s the same park Bokuto-san and his friend wanted to go to.”

“Not a date, then?” Kenma couldn’t help but pry into Akaashi’s life. Since he had met him, it had always been ‘Bokuto-san this’ and ‘Bokuto-san that’. Kenma had only met the fabled ‘Bokuto-san’ once, but it had been clear he was absolutely crazy about Akaashi. 

And yet- “I don’t think he thinks of me like that.” 

If Kenma had the energy, he would have screamed. Two years of knowing Akaashi in university, and he always said the same thing, everyone else’s opinions be damned. Sometimes Kenma thought that angels could all descend from the Heavens specifically to tell Akaashi that Bokuto liked him, and he still wouldn’t believe it.

Instead, Kenma kept his composure. It would have been awfully hypocritical of him to give Akaashi relationship advice when he himself had never even been in a relationship. “He wants you to go stargazing with him, though.” Surely it would sink in eventually. 

“With his friend. It’s almost the same situation you’re in, and Lev isn’t romantically interested in you, right?” Kenma scrunched up his face in disgust at the thought, earning a huff of laughter from Akaashi. “There’s no point reading in-between the lines.” 

Kenma sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day. “Fine, I guess.” 

They continued walking until they had reached the doors of the computer science building, pushing them open and stepping outside. 

“At least the weather is nice today, no clouds to obscure the view of the stars,” Akaashi said, staring up at the sky. Kenma turned his head to look up as well. The weather was perfect. He hoped that would make up for having to stay outside for so long. 

* * *

“Woah! There are so many people here!” Lev exclaimed, skipping ahead of Kenma and Yaku into the park. “Guys! Half of our university must be here!” Kenma wanted to add that there were probably people who weren’t from their university here too, but there was no point ruining Lev’s vibe. 

Lev was right, though. There were an exceptional amount of people crowded into the little suburbian park. If Kenma had thought the train ride to get here was crowded, this was even worse. Every direction Kenma looked, there were just  _ people.  _ Kenma wrapped his jacket tighter around himself, feeling his chest tighten with anxiety. 

Surely when they picked a place, he’d be able to calm down. 

In truth, Kenma didn’t know why he felt like this. Sure, he’d always had a little bit of anxiety around crowds, but this felt  _ different.  _ He wasn’t anxious just because of the crowd… it felt like there was more than that. Like something was coming that he didn’t know how to explain.

He shook his head.  _ That’s ridiculous, Kenma. You’re letting the crowds get to your head. _

“Lev, slow down!” Yaku yelled through the park, before glancing over at Kenma. As he did, his eyebrows scrunched together in concern. “And try and find us somewhere quiet to sit!” He yelled again. Lev nodded at this instruction and threw them a thumbs up, before threading into the crowd and out of sight. 

“Should we really let him go off on his own?” Kenma mumbled, eyes glued to the grass beneath his shoes. 

Yaku stopped, placing a hand on Kenma’s shoulder. “Are you alright?” His tone was sincere, a complete contrast to how he had just been yelling at Lev. While Kenma appreciated the concern… he didn’t appreciate the attention, so much. 

“I’m fine, Yaku. Just tired.” That was easier to explain than ‘crowds fill me with anxiety in general, but for some reason, tonight the dread feels like more than usual’. He didn’t want to dampen the mood for everyone else by being such an anxious wreck.

Yaku withdrew his hand, offering Kenma a kind smile. “Alright, if you say so. Let me know if you need anything, though.” Kenma liked that about Yaku’s personality. He cared, but he never pushed. 

Lev, on the other hand-

“Why’d you guys stop?” Lev bellowed from a few metres away, back in view. He waved his arms above his head to ensure they’d notice him (as though it were hard to ignore a tall, yelling Russian). “Is Kenma-san okay? Is he having anxiety?”

Kenma willed the ground to open up underneath his feet and swallow him whole. He was sure that half the park was either staring at Lev or he and Yaku after that.  _ Did Lev seriously have no concept of discretion?  _

“Lev! Shut up!” Yaku yelled back, no doubt earning them even more attention from the public.  _ Why’d Kenma even agree to come to this? _

“Oh! I get it!” Lev yelled again, jogging towards them. “Sorry, Kenma-san! I forgot you hated it when people say things about you,” he added as he approached them. 

Kenma nodded his head. “It’s fine.” He felt as though he’d said that far too many times tonight.

“I found a nice spot near the lake though. It’ll be super pretty!” Lev continued, pointing to the direction he’s just come from. “Let’s go!”

The three of them began to walk over the grass, threading through standing people, and careful not to tread on anyone who was seated. After what felt like an eternity of walking and mumbling apologies to anyone they had brushed shoulders with, they reached the spot Lev had found. It was slightly more secluded than the rest of the park, on the outskirts of some woods that probably made some people feel unsafe.

However, Kenma found comfort in the tall expanses of trees and fewer people. He let out a breath he didn’t even realise he was holding, letting his shoulder sag back into their usual hunch. This place was comforting, Lev had picked well (not that Kenma was going to tell him that). 

Yaku laid out the rug they had brought, flattening it out so all three of them could sit on it. He then glanced at his watch. “We have about 45 minutes before it’s supposed to start.” 

“We could play a game! How about truth or dare?” Lev suggested.

“You two have fun with that,” Kenma replied, pulling his phone out of his pocket to play a game. He was eternally grateful for  _ Fire Emblem’s  _ mobile game. “I’ll be here.”

“You’re no fun,” Lev whined. “Yaku, will you play with me?”

Yaku placed one hand on the back of his neck. “I don’t think it’s a fun game for two people.”  _ That was an awfully nice way to say ‘no’. Well played.  _

“If you say so,” Lev pouted, resting his chin in his hands. “What are we supposed to do then?” 

“Don’t you have games on your phone?” Kenma questioned, glancing up at Lev for a second. 

In response to this, Lev pulled out his phone, holding it up for Kenma to see before flicking through his screen, probably to look for something to play. He eventually settled on one, making an excited noise when he finished a level, and a disappointed sigh when he ‘died’. He sighed more often than not. This kept him occupied for about 35 minutes, before he turned back up to look at Kenma. “I’m bored.”

“Download another game,” Kenma replied monotonously. 

“I don’t have any reception here,” Lev whined, holding his phone up for Kenma to see again. “I had to play a boring internetless game.” 

Kenma sighed, reaching across to grab Lev’s phone, swapping his in. “Use mine, I’ll go look for a spot with reception and download you something.”  _ Anything to make Lev stop talking.  _ His legs were also getting cramped in the position he was crouched in, it would be nice to stretch them and walk around. 

Yaku glanced up at Kenma as he rose from his seated position. “Don’t get lost.” 

“I’m not a child,” Kenma retorted, before turning on his heel and walking away, eager to find a spot with reception. He felt each muscle in his leg ache in a pleasant way as he began to walk. He hadn’t even been sitting for long, and yet the ground was so uncomfortable that he had already become stiff. 

He continued walking, eyes glued to Lev’s phone so that he’d notice the second it picked up a bar of reception. He grunted as the words ‘SOS only’ remained absolute on the screen, as though they were mocking him. 

Kenma continued to walk around the lake, making sure to stay close enough to know how to get back, but far enough that he’d have a sliver of a chance at picking something up. 

“Work, you stupid thing,” Kenma cursed at Lev’s phone, holding it above his head for a moment as he walked, willing it to work. “Just one bar!” He pulled his hand back down again, staring at the offensive device, which only showed ‘SOS only’ in response.  _ Why did Lev’s phone have to be as annoying as its owner?  _ Kenma continued walking around, head bowed, staring at the screen.  _ Surely Lev’s broken it somehow.  _

Kenma’s lamentation of this came to a sudden halt as he walked into something. 

No, someone _.  _

Kenma stepped back, apology stuck in the back of his throat. The man he bumped into was far taller than he was, with a tangle of dark hair that stuck up at strange angles to make him look even taller. He was looking down at Kenma, eyebrows drawn together in an odd apprehensive look that Kenma knew he didn’t like. He was also far more attractive than Kenma cared to admit. 

But the strangest thing was the feeling in Kenma’s chest that he  _ knew this person.  _ There was something so achingly familiar about him, but Kenma couldn’t place where he’d seen him before.  _ Middle school, maybe?  _ No, Kenma was sure he’d be able to remember someone who looked like that.  _ Grade school, then? _

Kenma shook the thought out of his head, realising he’d been staring at this stranger for far too long (but too lost in thought to realise the stranger had been staring at him, too).

Before he had the chance to mumble out an apology, ‘ooh’’s and ‘ah’’s from the crowd distracted him. He and the stranger both turned their heads to the source, only to see an array of shooting stars falling over their heads.

_ Huh, Kenma could have sworn it wasn’t time yet. _

The stars continued to shoot through the sky, each leaving a brilliant white streak in its wake. Kenma hated to admit it, but they were far more beautiful than he expected. It was as though each star that passed lit up the sky, reflecting in the lake and lighting up the park. 

Kenma wasn’t sure at what point his eyes began to water, but it certainly snapped him back to reality.  _ Were the stars always that bright?  _ He blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, before turning back to the stranger, whose gaze was still glued to the sky and whose eyes reflected each star that flew by. Somehow, watching the meteor shower in the reflection of his eyes was almost better than watching it in person.

Kenma’s nose scrunched up.  _ Where the Hell did that thought come from? _ He felt his heart rate increasing, fluttering in his chest. It felt like some obscure version of a panic attack, he had to get out of here. 

Kenma quickly gave a small bow of his head, before mumbling “Sorry for bumping into you”, and turned away before the stranger had the time to say anything else. Kenma wanted to spare them both the awkwardness of any apologies and small talk. 

He walked away as fast as he could, not turning back, but occasionally looking up to watch the stars continue to fall. By the time he reached Yaku and Lev, it was all over, the park once again shrouded in darkness. 

“Kenma-san! You missed the entire thing!” Lev exclaimed, holding Kenma’s phone back out towards him, which Kenma gratefully exchanged with Lev’s. He didn’t bother explaining that he never found Lev a game, it was far too much effort. He was too focused on trying to get his heart rate to slow back to its usual pace.  _ Why was it still beating so fast? _

“I saw it from where I was.”

Lev huffed, causing Yaku to laugh. “See? I told you he was fine, Lev.”

Kenma hoped Yaku was right about that.

* * *

13XX, Japan

Kuroo Tetsurou stood outside the door to his father’s meeting-room for at least fifteen minutes, willing himself to go inside. He had been summoned almost half an hour ago, and was absolutely dreading what this conversation was going to be about.

If his guess was correct, this was going to be about his father declaring a start to their war. 

A pointless, selfish war that was going to be filled with unnecessary bloodshed. 

Kuroo ran a hand through his hair for what felt like the millionth time that day. He had no idea what he could do or say to talk sense into his father. He’d never been great with words, he knew he would struggle to try to convince his father to change his mind.  _ If only Kenma were here,  _ Kuroo thought wistfully.  _ Kenma always knows what to say.  _

But he did know that Kenma would tell him to be brave. So Kuroo took a deep breath, and pushed the door open, stepping inside. 

He bowed when he made eye contact with his father, looking away from him as he knelt down to sit across from the man. “You asked for me, chief?”

He hadn’t called this man ‘father’ in a long time. But this man hadn’t been a father to him in a long time. Kuroo was almost grateful that his father had asked him to address him only as ‘chief’. It was an accurate depiction of their relationship. 

The man was a couple of centimetres shorter than Kuroo, but he made up for it with sheer aggression and personality. With the way he held himself, head always high and face always impassive, he was the image of a leader. Even sitting behind a wooden table, legs tucked under himself, there was something fierce about him that Kuroo struggled to put into words. 

“It took you a long time to get here. You’re the heir apparent to this position. You should strive to be punctual.” His father said, voice stern. He had his arms crossed against his chest. “You’re almost 21, Tetsurou.”

Kuroo really hoped there was a purpose to this meeting other than his father criticizing him, but he knew better than to say that. Instead, he lowered his head again. “My apologies, it won’t happen again.” 

“Now, onto important matters,” his father continued once Kuroo was back upright. “We’re marching in a week. East. Straight to Karasuno.”  _ Where Kenma is.  _

Kuroo closed his eyes for a moment. “Chief, I really do think that you should rethink this-”

His father cut him off immediately. “And why is that? I offered a deal to them, they declined. Now they suffer the consequences. No one defies the Nekoma empire.” 

“You’d take innocent lives for a little bit of land?” And though Kuroo managed to keep his voice low and even, he truly wanted to scream, wanted to shout this in his father’s face, to make him see how absolutely crazy this idea was. How could someone condone actions like that? Kuroo felt his blood run cold in his veins. 

“Do you dare question me?” His father’s voice was suddenly filled with malice. Kuroo almost wished he was yelling instead. Rage was predictable, his father was not. For all Kuroo knew, the man was about to unsheathe his katana and slice Kuroo’s head off. Kuroo’s chest tightened at the thought. 

He’d done it to his advisors before. 

“No, chief.” 

Kuroo’s eyes darted back to the floor. He wished he had the courage to stand up for what he believed in. 

He’d failed people. 

He’d failed  _ Kenma.  _

“Then I expect to see you ready to depart at this time next week. That will be all. You’re excused.” 

Kuroo didn’t have any more words to say to the man. With one final bow of his head, he stood and departed from the room. The second he closed the door behind him, he stumbled down the corridor for a moment before falling to his knees, clutching his head in his hands. 

_ Failure, failure, failure.  _

People were going to lose their lives because Kuroo had been too much of a coward to stand up to his father. 

_ Would Kenma be disappointed in him? _ Surely, he’d have to be. He was disappointed in himself. 

Kuroo’s eyes began to sting, hot tears welling up inside them. He didn’t care if any bystanders saw him, he didn’t  _ care.  _

In that moment, all Kuroo could do was pray he didn’t meet Kenma on a battlefield. 

* * *

20XX, Japan

“Kenma!” Kuroo awoke with a start, gasping for air, after shouting a name that had no meaning to him. He bolted upright in his bed, one hand held over his chest, and the other balled in his sheets. He closed his eyes to try and even out his breathing to regain his composure, but he was instead met with a slight stinging in his eyes. He moved the hand on his chest up to his eyes to rub at them, and felt warm wetness underneath the pads of his fingers. 

_ Was he crying? When was the last time he had cried? _

_ And who the Hell was Kenma? _

Kuroo rubbed more aggressively at his eyes, trying to clear them. Sure, that dream had been vivid - so vivid that he could remember every detail- but surely it wasn’t enough of a reason to cry.  _ What the fuck was wrong with his brain? _ Perhaps the sleep deprivation had gotten to him. He had been up pretty late last night, with the meteor shower and all. And considering he had to walk back to his apartment from the park, he was pretty sure he hadn’t actually managed to crash until 4 A.M. Hell, he was still wearing what he had worn last night. 

He sighed to himself, feeling his heart rate return to normal. He was  _ fine.  _ It was just a dream. Sometimes dreams felt realistic, but a dream is a  _ dream.  _ Kuroo ran his hands through his hair, jostling it into an even more dishevelled version of his bedhead. It was just a dream. 

Trying to regain some normalcy, Kuroo reached over to his bedside table, unplugged his phone and begun to scroll through his notifications. This revealed a barrage of texts from Bokuto, momentarily distracting him from the thoughts of his strange dream with whoever Kenma was. 

**Brokuto: dude whered you go (11:42)**

**Brokuto: are you okay? (11:45)**

**Brokuto: agh you left me alone with akaashi please come back im worried ill make it awkward (11:48)**

**Brokuto: KUROO. (11:49)**

**Brokuto: dude fuck it started early youre MISSING IT (11:54)**

**Brokuto: YOU MISSED THE WHOLE THING WTF (12:02)**

**Brokuto: hope youre not dead (12:26)**

**Brokuto: just dropped akaashi off at his apartment ring me in the morning (1:34)**

Kuroo held one hand up to his face, smacking his head against it in a facepalm. Kuroo had left Bokuto and Akaashi alone with the glimmer of hope that one of them would finally confess. But clearly, they were both too stupid for it. Kuroo wanted to scream. He’d set it up  _ perfectly  _ for them. Found them the most scenic and beautiful location, made sure they were both going to be there, left them alone to  _ drop a goddamn hint  _ and offer them their privacy, but they’d both been too thick to get it. 

Kuroo huffed again, typing his passcode in and then calling Bokuto, who picked up on the first ring. “Kuroo? You’re not dead in a ditch in a park somewhere!” Bokuto’s voice boomed through the speaker. 

“I’m considering burying myself in one,” Kuroo teased, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Especially after you didn’t confess to Akaashi. After all I did for you, too.” Kuroo held a hand up to his chest in mock offence, even though Bokuto couldn’t see him. 

“Why would I confess?” Bokuto questioned. Kuroo hated that he sounded genuinely confused. Perhaps he should have discussed it with him  _ before  _ they got there, instead of leaving the dumb owl to his own devices. 

“Because you like him. And he likes you. Seems simple to me.” Kuroo was doing his best to keep his tone even. 

_ Was Bokuto really this oblivious?  _

“Akaashi doesn’t like me, bro.”

_ Yes, apparently he was.  _

“Ugh, I like him so much though! You should have seen him when all the stars were going, he looked adorable,” Bokuto continued before Kuroo had the chance to interject. “It’s whatever. I’m just bummed that you missed all the super pretty stars! They were amazing.” 

Kuroo let out a low chuckle. “I didn’t miss them, bro. I just saw them from somewhere else.” That brought the memories back to him. The stars suddenly shooting across the sky when he’d least expected it, right after he bumped into objectively the prettiest person he’d ever seen on the planet. His shoulders sagged as he recalled this. Something about that boy had really piqued his interest, and yet he’d left before Kuroo could even ask what his name was. 

Maybe he’d see him again someday. He could only hope, after all.

“Alone? That’s sad, Kuroo. Even for you.” Kuroo did not want to know what Bokuto meant by that statement. Sure, he hadn’t dated around much, but he didn’t think it was anything to be ashamed of. He just hadn’t met someone who felt right yet, that’s all.

Unlike somebody he knew. “You know what’s sad? Wasting an opportunity like that to confess.”

“Drop it! We’re friends, I’d rather we be friends than him thinking I’m  _ weird  _ or something.” Bokuto whined into the phone, before quickly changing the subject. “Oh, also, are you coming to volleyball practice before class today? Apparently Oikawa’s gracing us with his presence.” 

Kuroo did not want to go to volleyball practice. As much as he loved the sport, he felt  _ exhausted.  _ It was like he woke up even more tired than he had been going to bed. 

But it was a chance to try and talk sense to Bokuto in person. Plus, a good way to work off whatever weird thing was happening in his head. For some reason, he still couldn’t get the name ‘ _ Kenm _ _ a’ _ off the tip of his tongue .  Volleyball truly was the ultimate distraction. 

“I’ll be there, Bo.”

* * *

“I was not going to sacrifice my beauty sleep for some old rocks flying through space, but it sounds like you had a good time,” Atsumu mumbled under his breath as he took down the net of the volleyball court. Bokuto and Oikawa had spent the entirety of post-training clean-up gushing about the meteor shower last night.

Kuroo was glad practice was over. His university’s volleyball club was  _ amazing,  _ but practising six days a week was starting to make the academic workload of university hard to bear. Not to mention that some of his teammates were… interesting, to say the least. The distraction was welcome today, though. He didn’t want to think of dreams, or fathers or wars or  _ Kenma.  _

“I don’t think your beauty sleep is doing you any favours,” Oikawa chirped from the other side of the court, face looking down at his phone, but a clear smirk forming on his lips. “You might want to get a couple more hours in.”

“Oi! Can it, Shittykawa!” Iwaizumi shouted, hitting Oikawa in the back of the head as he walked past. 

Kuroo smiled at their antics as Oikawa begun to fake-pout. At least someone around here was in a relationship, albeit a slightly dysfunctional looking one. 

Speaking of relationships, Bokuto bounded over to Kuroo, sitting down on the edge of the court beside him. “Where the fuck did you go last night?”

Kuroo dramatically sighed in mock-frustration. “We’ve been over this, lover boy. I gave you and Akaashi space, which you didn’t even _use.”_ _Who passes up opportunities like that?_

“When are you going to get over this?” Bokuto questioned, as though Kuroo was the fool here. “I’m happy with where we are now.” 

Kuroo wanted to know what he’d done wrong in a past life to get lumped with Bokuto as a best friend. 

He didn’t want anyone to mistake him, he loved Bokuto a lot. Ever since they had met on the first day of class when Bokuto had been sitting in the wrong lecture hall and ended up in Kuroo’s chemistry lecture (which they laughed about for hours afterwards), they’d been tight. But that didn’t mean he didn’t think Bokuto wasn’t the most thick-skulled person on the planet.

But Kuroo knew Bokuto was not going to be reasoned with today, especially when he was in a mood like this. He knew a losing battle when he saw one. “Fine, fine, we can talk about this some other time.” 

A wide grin split across Bokuto’s face. “You didn’t answer me. Where’d you go?”

“Just near the lake, not too far from where you were,” Kuroo replied, stretching out his legs against the cool wooden floor. “It was super nice there,” he concluded with a yawn.  _ Why was he so tired, still?  _ Practice must have taken more out of him than he thought.

“Hey man, you look tired, you okay?” Trust Bokuto to notice that, but not Akaashi’s feelings for him. Typical. 

“Yeah, bro. I’m fine.” Kuroo smiled at him to alleviate whatever worry he was feeling. “Just had a wack dream last night.” He halted at his own words. He hadn’t meant to say that, why did it just tumble out of his mouth like that? Kuroo placed a pensive hand on his chin. He was thinking way too much about this stupid dream. 

Kuroo thought it was better not to go into specifics about it. Maybe saying it out loud would only put more emphasis on it in his shitshow of a brain. Whatever the hell all that dream stuff was about would have meant nothing to Bokuto and his short attention span. Kuroo didn’t even think he had the words to explain how vivid it was, and how he hasn’t been able to get the name ‘Kenma’ out of his head, anyway. It didn’t make sense to him, let alone to Bokuto.

“Hah, maybe the meteor shower is messing with you.”

For reasons unbeknownst to him, that thought did not settle well with Kuroo.

* * *

13XX, Japan

Kenma was surprised to see that Kuroo had arrived at their designated meeting spot earlier than him for once. As Kenma approached their spot on the outskirts of the forest, he noticed just how tense Kuroo’s body language was. He was standing with his back against an old oak tree, arms crossed against his chest, shoulders drawn up. 

Kenma knew that wasn’t a good sign. 

However, the second Kuroo noticed Kenma walking towards him, all the tension in his body eased, replaced with a grin so wide that Kenma wanted to commit it to his memory immediately. Kuroo began to jog towards him in an attempt to meet him halfway. He held his arms wide open, wrapping Kenma in a tight hug as he reached him, which Kenma was more than happy to return. 

Wrapped in the safety of Kuroo’s arms, Kenma could pretend that everything was okay.

“I missed you,” Kenma mumbled into Kuroo’s chest. Despite it only being a week, the anxiety of what was going on had been gnawing at Kenma to the point where he was losing sleep. Constantly worrying about what was to come, and especially worrying about what Kuroo was going through, was taking a toll on him. 

Kuroo didn’t reply, but instead pulled back from the embrace and cupped his hands around Kenma’s face, pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss. As he pulled away, Kenma leant forward, kissing Kuroo deeper this time. 

He was here, he was safe, and that was all that mattered to Kenma. 

It was only when Kenma leant back again that he noticed just how tired Kuroo looked. Dark circles resided under his eyes, darker than Kenma had ever seen them. They certainly didn’t make him any less beautiful, but Kenma’s chest still tightened at their implications. He lifted one hand to Kuroo’s face, rubbing his thumb across one of the dark circles, as though he could wipe it away. 

“What’s happened, Kuro?” Kenma questioned. Kuroo’s gaze turned down to the floor, and he bit his bottom lip. 

He took a deep breath before starting. “We’re marching. Tomorrow.” He gulped before continuing. “East, to Karasuno.” 

That explained a lot to Kenma. His chief had told him that Nekoma was after more of Karasuno’s land, and that they had declined their ‘offer’. Kenma had known that something bad was going to come of it… He just hadn’t thought it would be so soon. It also explained why Kuroo looked as beat down as he did. 

“You’re worried about having to hurt people,” Kenma stated. It was an echo of the last conversation they had. 

“And worried about you getting hurt.” Kuroo still refused to make eye-contact with Kenma, regardless of Kenma’s hand resting against his cheek. 

“I won’t.” Kenma knew that was a promise that he wasn’t sure that he could keep, but he desperately wanted to make Kuroo feel better. The way Kuroo had always done for him.

“I should have stopped him. I should have fought harder for it,” Kuroo whispered. Kenma was quick to notice the shine of tears forming in Kuroo’s eyes. And oh, how that made his chest ache. His Kuroo had always tried to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, even if things were completely out of his control. 

It made Kenma remember the time when he had fallen on his way to meet Kuroo as a teenager, his own clumsiness finally catching up to him. He remembered the look of horror on Kuroo’s face at his scraped knees; the way Kuroo had apologised to him. That was a good summary of Kuroo’s personality, looking back. Always blaming himself for things he had no part in. 

“You did all you could.” Kenma knew nothing he could say would help, but he would be damned if he didn’t at least try. “It’s going to be alright.” 

Kuroo’s eyes stayed glued to the ground, brows drawn together in frustration. 

“Hey, Kuro, look at me,” Kenma added, in an attempt to get Kuroo out of his head for a moment. He was beating himself up over something that was hardly his fault, and Kenma wouldn’t stand for it. “It’s okay.”

As Kuroo’s eyes flicked up to meet Kenma’s own, Kenma leant in and pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth, moving his hands to squeeze Kuroo’s. “I love you.”  _ Gods, he had no idea how much Kenma loved him.  _ Kenma didn’t have enough words to convey something like that. 

“I love you too,” Kuroo whispered, pulling Kenma into another tight embrace, his arms wrapped securely around Kenma’s back.

They continued their embrace in silence, neither of them willing to pull away or break the silence. Kenma wasn’t sure how long they stood there for, his head pressed against Kuroo’s chest, listening to the faint beating of his heart. 

_ Kuroo was here, Kuroo was safe, it was okay.  _

He repeated those phrases over and over in his head like a mantra. Their lives were going to change as they knew it, and no one could predict what was going to happen on the battlefield. 

But for one more night, Kenma was willing to pretend everything was okay. 

After a short eternity enjoying each other’s presence, Kuroo finally spoke. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to say goodbye to you tonight,” he mumbled into Kenma’s hair, his voice breaking at the end of the sentence, breaking Kenma’s heart along with it. 

Kenma agreed, though. A goodbye right now would have felt far too final. He wouldn’t have been able to say one either. 

Kenma stood on the tips of his toes so he could press a tender kiss to Kuroo’s forehead, and then rested their foreheads together. “So don’t say goodbye.” 

He examined Kuroo’s face again, it was much easier being this close. His eyes were still shiny with unshed tears, and the dark circles still stood out more on his face up close, but Kenma wanted to look at him like this for the rest of his life. With Kuroo by his side, he knew he’d be able to die a happy man. 

With another kiss to Kuroo’s lips, Kenma whispered: “We can just say ‘see you again soon’”. 

* * *

20XX, Japan

Kenma’s eyes snapped open with a start, a gasp forming on his lips. It took him a few moments to realise where he was, that this was reality again. He blinked up at the ceiling of his bedroom a couple of times, trying to get his head back in order. That dream had felt so  _ weird _ . He’d never been much of a dreamer, most nights he didn’t sleep enough to give his brain the chance to come up with a dream, let alone execute it. 

But that one… 

That dream had felt so vivid, so  _ familiar.  _ It was as though he could still feel the warmth of the person he had been embracing tingling down his chest and around his back. 

That person… had his brain  _ seriously  _ come up with a dream with that stranger he’d bumped into last night? Sure, he was hot. Probably the hottest person Kenma had seen outside of a video game, but still, what the  _ fuck? _

His brain had even had the audacity to give him a name: Kuroo. Kuro. 

Kenma pushed himself up on his elbows into a sitting position, the sheets and duvet pooling around his hips. Kuro was just a figment of his imagination his brain had come up with to tease him about how long he’d been single for, surely. It wasn’t worth thinking that deeply into… 

_ Then why couldn’t he stop?  _

His thoughts were clouded, the dream replaying in his head on a loop. Sweet words, even sweeter embraces. Romance like that had so often made Kenma feel sick to his stomach, so why did he like it so much this time? A shiver ran down Kenma’s spine as he recalled the way that he’d kissed Kuro in that dream, and the way he’d been kissed in return. 

Kenma had never kissed anybody like that. 

And yet his lips tingled as though it had really happened, as though it was a real kiss. 

The fleeting thought that he should try and track down the stranger from the other night crossed his mind, but he cast it out the second it had formed. How  _ stupid.  _ What was he going to do? Find him and say ‘Hey! I dreamt that you kissed me in some weird medieval setting and now I can’t stop thinking about you’?

Kenma attempted to chuckle at himself, but it came out as more of a huff. He was thinking far too hard about this. It was just a coincidence that he’d dreamt of that stranger, he shouldn’t think anything of it beyond that. He should probably just stop playing so many dating sims, surely they’d done this to him.

He’d be able to stop thinking about it once he got to class. Once he was concentrated on his classwork, he’d forget the dream altogether

* * *

Or so he thought. 

Every few minutes of working on a code for his own version of  _ Snake,  _ his mind wandered off to that stupid dream, and the stupidly attractive face of the stupid person in it. He caught himself biting his lip as he thought of the kisses a couple of times throughout class, and mentally scolded himself for letting himself get distracted. 

No matter what Kenma tried to distract himself with, it was like his mind was determined to fixate on that dream. As though it was a legitimate memory, not something his brain had just conjured up on a whim.

So why did it feel so important?

He was pulled from his thoughts by Akaashi tapping his shoulder, brows drawn together in concern. “Kenma, are you alright? You seem very spaced out today.” Akaashi was perceptive as ever. “Class has been over for 5 minutes, and you’re still just staring at your screen.

Kenma shook his head, as though he could force the dream out physically. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a weird dream last night…” Kenma trailed off. Had he meant to tell Akaashi that? It sounded awfully childish. 

Nevertheless, Akaashi only offered him a kind smile, only noticeable by the slight curl of his lips. “It seems to be going around. Bokuto-san was telling me his friend was having strange dreams too.”

Somehow Akaashi always managed to turn any topic of conversation back to ‘Bokuto-san’. Kenma hadn’t decided if it was endearing or annoying yet. 

“How was your night out with him last night, anyway?” Kenma questioned. He wasn’t sure whether it was foolish to be hopeful that something had happened. 

Akaashi hesitated for a moment. “The stars were lovely.” 

Kenma waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t utter another word after a few moments, Kenma realised his hope was indeed futile. “You didn’t confess.”

“Of course not.” Akaashi shot Kenma a glare, as though he thought Kenma’s statement was completely uncalled for. 

“...Why?” 

“He’s not into me. Besides, once his friend wandered off, he was too concerned about him to talk about anything else.” Akaashi finished, standing up. “How was your evening?”

Kenma assumed the subject change was Akaashi’s way of saying ‘I don’t want to talk about it’, and Kenma wasn’t one to exert the effort into forcing him. He stood up beside Akaashi, after shoving his papers into his bag. “It was alright.” 

“That’s good to hear.” He and Akaashi departed from their class, offering small bows of gratitude to their professor as they walked past. 

Just as they were about to part ways to go in their separate directions, Akaashi put a hand on Kenma’s arm to stop him. “Would you like to come to a university volleyball game this week?”

Kenma was not interested in sports whatsoever, but he thought it would have been rude to say no without at least pretending to think about it. “Why?”

“Bokuto-san is playing-”  _ Of course.  _ “And I have another ticket. And you never have weekend plans, so I assume you’re free.”

Kenma’s face scrunched up as Akaashi made the comment about his lack of social life. He wasn’t exactly wrong, and Kenma didn’t even normally mind it all that much, but something about the comment stung a little. More than he thought it would. “No, I don’t want to.”  _ Better to be honest than not. _

“You should come. It’ll be good for you to get out besides just going to class.” 

_ What the Hell was up with people trying to force him to go places lately?  _ First Lev and the stupid meteor shower, and now Akaashi with an equally stupid sports game. It was as though the universe was conspiring against his introverted nature. 

...But then again, maybe it’d give him something to think about other than his stupid dream. And time with Akaashi was never a bad thing. Perhaps with Bokuto there, he’d even be able to convince Akaashi that Bokuto was interested in him, and then he’d never have to deal with their pining again. Could be worth it. 

“I’ll think about it. Text me the details.”

* * *

13XX, Japan

The smell of smoke burned Kuroo’s eyes and throat, making it hard to breathe. He coughed, trying to clear some of it from his lungs, but it didn’t help. 

In every direction he looked, there was destruction. 

Fires ravaged through the small village, every building within sight alight with flames. Some had already collapsed, their roofs caving under the intense heat. But worse than that was the bodies. 

God, the bodies. No matter where Kuroo turned, bodies littered the ground. He tried not to look, to try and pretend they weren’t there, but it was nearly impossible. He felt a churning in the pit of his stomach. The sight sickened him. 

Some of the bodies were strangers to him. Men, women and children who just happened to live in a village that they had marched past that wouldn’t surrender to his father’s whims. He wished they would have surrendered. They were bloody beyond recognition now. 

Kuroo was the only one alive who was mourning these people. 

Some of the bodies were familiar to him. They weren’t the majority, but there were enough that Kuroo could recognise they’d taken a significant loss. He had trained beside some of these people, made jokes with them as he passed them in the town square. 

And now they were dead. 

Kuroo sank to his knees in the middle of the destruction, one hand gripping the hilt of his sheathed katana, the other clutching at his chest. He may not have been the one to kill any of these people, but the blood was on his hands. 

He hadn’t stopped it. And in Kuroo’s mind, that made him just as guilty as the ones who had wielded the weapons that made final blows.  _ How was he ever going to repent for this? Was this kind of sin even forgivable? _

Oh, how he hated himself for this. He felt the self-loathing wrap around his heart and threaten to crush his chest. A part of him wished he’d died along with these people. He felt his eyes water with tears again. These people didn’t deserve this. No one deserved to meet an end like this. Grief wracked through every nerve of his body, leaving him shaking while knelt over on the ground. 

He hadn’t killed anyone, but gods, he was still a murderer. 

He could never forgive himself.

Kenma was going to  _ hate  _ him. 

He felt a hand clap down onto his shoulder. Kuroo didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. 

“Pull yourself together, boy. We’re done here.” His father’s voice boomed around him.

No doubt they were done here. There wasn’t a single person left alive from this village. No one to tell its story. No one to carry on its traditions. 

No one left.

He heard his father sheathe his katana beside him. 

No doubt it had more blood on it than anyone else’s. 

“If we leave now, we’ll reach Karasuno tomorrow,” His father continued, voice as emotionless as ever. “And then we give them the choice to surrender, or suffer the consequences.”

The thought made Kuroo feel as though he were going to retch. Instead, he only bowed his head, paying one final respect to the fallen around him. 

He prayed this battle wouldn’t have any further casualties. 

* * *

20XX, Japan

Kuroo couldn’t reach the bathroom fast enough once he had woken up in a sweat. He fell out of bed, and ran as fast as he could to the small bathroom of his apartment, before emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl.

Once he was sure he was finished, he flushed the contents, rolling back to sit on the cold tile floor in an attempt to even out his breathing.

_ What the fuck was that? _

That dream had felt so real that it had affected Kuroo physically. 

It left his breath ragged, his stomach overwhelmed with a feeling of nausea that he couldn’t shake, no matter how long he sat on the floor. Kuroo lifted one hand to his forehead.  _ Did he have a fever?  _ No, he wasn’t warm. It wasn’t a fever that had caused this reaction. 

It was that nightmare. 

Kuroo was beginning to suspect that these dreams meant more than just… dreams. They were far too logical, they made too much chronological  _ sense.  _

So Kuroo did what any logical person having their mid-life crisis did. He crawled back into his bedroom, picked up his phone, and rang his best friend for guidance. 

Bokuto answered on the first ring, as dependable as always. “Hey hey hey, what’s up?”

Kuroo certainly wasn’t in a mood to exchange pleasantries. He knew Bokuto well enough to know that he wouldn’t be offended by this, at least. “Bo, I think I’m losing it,” Kuroo panted.

“Kuroo? You don’t sound so good… what do you mean?” Bokuto’s tone was serious. Kuroo could count the number of times Bokuto had sounded serious in his life on his fingers.  _ He must have sounded worse than he thought? _

“You said something the other day about the meteor shower getting to me?” Kuroo’s voice was quiet. 

It took a few moments for Bokuto to reply. “I was joking. Kuroo, what’s happening?”

And so Kuroo told him everything. He told him how he had bumped into that stranger, how that night he’d had a vivid dream that he couldn’t stop replaying in his mind. He told him that the following night that stranger had shown up in his dream, and it had been the  _ sweetest  _ dream he’d ever had (and he was almost certain his stranger’s name was Kenma. Or at least, that’s what his brain had come up with) He concluded with the dream he had last night, sparing some of the gorier details, but explaining the visceral reaction he’d had upon waking up. 

“Holy shit.” Was Bokuto’s only response. 

“I’m going insane, right?” Kuroo questioned, flopping back onto his bed. “Like, actually crazy.”

“Maybe it does mean something.”

Kuroo groaned, sliding one hand down his face.  _ Bokuto was as crazy as he was, great.  _

“Seriously, Kuroo. Dreams aren’t supposed to be a continuing story or whatever! They’re usually a dumpster fire of random crap that makes no sense. But yours make sense!” Bokuto sounded far too excited about this. He couldn’t deny that it was good to talk about it to someone, though. 

“So what do I do about it?”

Kuroo was far more lost than he thought. He didn’t want his mind to be plagued with such horrible images. He didn’t want to think about any of that.

Well, maybe the nice one with Kenma was alright. But not the rest. 

“I’ll be there in 20.”

* * *

True to his word, Bokuto knocked on Kuroo’s door roughly 20 minutes later. He held up both his hands upon Kuroo opening the door, showing a stack of paper in one, and a paper bag in the other. 

“Bro, you look awful,” Bokuto added as he walked into Kuroo’s apartment, plopping himself on the couch and dropping his things on the table. “Are you sure you actually slept?”

Kuroo closed the door, and followed Bokuto to join him on the couch. “Yes, Bo, I had to have slept to dream,” Kuroo deadpanned in response. “What did you bring over?” 

Bokuto wiggled his eyebrows at Kuroo in response. “I’m glad you asked, my young apprentice. Since we’re gonna be like cops or detectives, I brought paper, so we can write everything down,” Bokuto said, gesturing to his stack of paper. “And in the bag are doughnuts, because cops always eat them in movies and stuff.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes at that, but still leant forward to pull a doughnut out of the bag. He was feeling much better than he had when he had woken up, most of the nausea had subsided. His stomach, however, was growling at him to eat something. 

“You know Bo,” Kuroo said between mouthfuls, “You kind of remind me of a doughnut.” 

“Huh?” Bokuto looked at him in question, own doughnut shoved in his mouth. “Wha’ do you mean?”

A grin split across Kuroo’s face before he answered: “Big old hole where your brain should be.”

Bokuto’s eyebrows shot up in offence. “You shouldn’t be mean to your best friend who’s  _ feeding you! _ ” He exclaimed, raising one leg onto the couch to kick Kuroo. “Don’t be a dick!”

Kuroo’s resolve cracked into cackling, and soon enough Bokuto joined him in his laughter. Banter with Bokuto was good. It restored some feeling of normalcy back into his day, he was grateful for it. 

Once they had settled down (and eaten copious amounts of doughnuts), Bokuto declared that they had to get to work.

“Okay, so what do all the dreams have in common?” Bokuto asked, wiping remnants of icing sugar off of his mouth with the back of his hand.

Kuroo pondered this for a moment, but as soon as he thought of the answer, he was met with a pull at his chest, as though his heart was agreeing with him. “Kenma.”

“Park guy?”

“Well, yeah. I don’t know if park guy’s name is actually Kenma, but it’s what I called him in the dream. And I can’t really get him and his name out of my head, either.” Bokuto was too busy grabbing one of his sheets of paper to notice the faint blush spread across Kuroo’s cheeks. 

“Okay, so…” Bokuto trailed off, sticking his tongue out the corner of his mouth as he wrote ‘KENMA’ in big red letters on the centre of the page. “Kenma.” 

Kuroo wanted to laugh at Bokuto’s grand plan of just writing the name down, but he also didn’t want to seem ungrateful for the help. “Yeah, Kenma.”

“Have you tried looking for him?” Bokuto asked quizzically, holding up his sheet of paper. “Like, we know he lives in Tokyo, because no one would come to that park unless they were a local. And he must have come from nearby, a uni student probably?” 

Kuroo hummed in agreement. What Bokuto was saying made sense, and did narrow it down a little, but Kuroo was still stumped on how to find him. How did people usually track people down these days?

“Have you looked for him on Facebook?” Bokuto asked this as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s how people usually find someone.” 

Kuroo hadn’t actually thought of that. He picked his phone up, and opened the Facebook app. He looked up at Bokuto before searching, and Bokuto gave him a very enthusiastic nod and thumbs up in return. That was all the encouragement Kuroo needed to start to type ‘k-e-n-m-a’ into the search bar, and hit ‘go’. 

Kuroo sucked his breath in as his phone loaded the results in what was possibly the longest 8 seconds of his life. 

Only to find that there were hundreds of people named ‘Kenma’, the majority of whom lived in Tokyo. Some of them didn’t even have a profile picture! He scrolled through the first few, finding absolutely no fruitful results. 

He sighed, and tossed his phone down onto the couch next to him. “That was a bust.” 

“What, no Kenma’s?” Bokuto asked, reaching for Kuroo’s phone to try and finish the job that Kuroo had started. 

Kuroo sunk down into the couch, putting his head in his hands. “Too many Kenma’s.” 

Bokuto scrolled through his phone for a few moments, before adding: “Damn, there are a lot of Kenma’s.” 

Kuroo gave an overdramatic huff. “That’s what I just told you, Bo.”

“Hey, one of them is mutual friends with Akaashi!” Bokuto beamed, seemingly distracted.

Kuroo sighed, grabbing another doughnut from the bag. “How do you manage to bring Akaashi into every conversation?” 

“Have you seen how good Akaashi looks in his profile pic? I took that photo.” Bokuto added, holding the phone up for Kuroo to see. Kuroo already knows which photo it was without turning his head. Bokuto had only shown him  _ a thousand  _ times. Kuroo’s only response to Bokuto was a grunt. “Oi, don’t mope because this idea was bad, I’m sure we’ll work it out soon.” 

Kuroo could only sigh. “I hope so, Bo.” 

* * *

13XX, Japan

Kenma’s town was burning to the ground. 

He peeked out one of the windows of the hall he was cooped up in. At the first sign of trouble, a guard had ushered every noble-person, strategist, medic, and anyone else deemed as ‘important enough’ into the room, with a row of guards lining the doors. 

Kenma didn’t know what to think. 

The thought of what was happening outside sickened him. No doubt hundreds of innocent people were going to lose their lives in this battle. 

But Kenma was more concerned about Kuroo. 

He must have been out there, somewhere. No doubt feeling emotions that Kenma couldn’t even begin to comprehend. But Kenma knew Kuroo, knew how he must have been feeling about himself, and so desperately wished that he could be out there for him. 

_ Was it silly to wish that he could go out there to find him, and they could run away together? _

Kenma sighed again, pressing his face against the window once more, eyes scanning the area outside for any signs of the familiar head of black hair. He tried not to let his eyes linger on the corpses that lined the streets, only giving them a glance if he recognised them. 

As guilty as he felt doing it, he let out a breath of relief when he realised none of them were his Kuroo. 

Which meant that Kuroo was probably still okay. 

That’s what mattered. 

Kenma turned to face the other people in the hall with him. Some looked fearful, some looked relieved for the safety, but Kenma felt agitated that he wasn’t out there  _ helping. Helping his people? Or helping Kuroo?  _ He hadn’t decided that yet. 

“I think we are going to lose,” The wife of their chief mumbled to herself. Everyone around her seemed to ignore it, but Kenma knew it was true enough. There was no point ignoring the fact that even if they miraculously survived this, there wouldn’t be much of a home to go back to. 

This was all the more reason to get out there. 

Kenma grabbed a dagger that had been left on a table ‘in case of an emergency’.  _ This seemed like an emergency to him.  _ After gripping the dagger in his hand, he made a dash for the door. He was vaguely aware of a couple of people calling out to him, but he didn’t pay it any attention. Their warnings didn’t matter enough to him. The guards hadn’t been expecting to have to keep anyone in, so pushing past them was even easier than Kenma had anticipated. He slammed the door to the hall shut behind him, a safeguard against anyone following him. 

Once he was outside, he took a deep breath of what he assumed was the cool night air, but instead found smoke assaulting his lungs. He coughed a couple of times in an attempt to clear his lungs.  _ How was anybody able to breathe in these conditions?  _

He couldn’t let it stop him. Kenma lifted one sleeve to his mouth to filter out the smoke, straightened his back, and began to run.

Kenma had never been much of an athlete, but he was motivated enough to make his legs move faster than he ever had before. 

He tried not to look at the bodies on the ground as he ran past them. There was nothing he could do for them now, as much as he wished he could reverse the clock and help each one of them. He supposed he’d just have to find the time to mourn them later. He had to get where the action was, where his motions would truly count. 

He continued running, his legs and lungs aching, to the source of the noise he could hear. The loud clang of metal against metal alerted Kenma that he was heading in the right direction, to the centre of the battle. He passed a few people running in the opposite direction to him, throwing him strange glances that conveyed ‘do you have a death wish?’. Kenma didn’t care. He had to get there, had to fix things, had to be there for Kuroo. 

When he made it to the town’s square, he saw just how chaotic the scene was. There was a higher concentration of corpses scattered around, more buildings collapsing around due to fire upon fire. 

Oh, how Kenma wanted to hide. But he had to do this. For Kuroo. 

He scanned the crowd, but there were far too many people moving too quickly for him to be able to identify anybody. 

So instead of running away as his brain had suggested, he ran forward into the masses. 

The sounds of swords clashing was almost too much for Kenma’s ears. It was so  _ loud  _ being so close, Kenma flinched every time someone around him swung their sword. If his ears weren’t being assaulted by the sounds, then his lungs were being assaulted by the smoke. He could feel the smoke and ashes curling around his lungs, making each breath he drew a challenge. He couldn’t wait for this to all be over. 

He continued jogging through the crowds, eyes constantly scanning for that one familiar person his heart was aching to find. He was lucky that he wasn’t seen as much of a threat based on his physical appearance, most people who glanced in his direction as he ran past didn’t give him a second thought, let alone try and intercept him. 

_ It will be alright once he finds Kuroo. They can run away together, they’ll keep each other safe, it’ll be okay.  _

_ It will all be okay.  _

And then he spotted him.

There he was, his Kuroo. Still standing, a streak of blood running down his face, and soot dashed along one of his cheekbones, but alive. 

Alive, and still the most beautiful person Kenma had ever laid eyes on.

There was a soldier from Kenma’s town facing Kuroo, own katana held up, ready to strike. Kuroo stood with both hands on the hilt of his own katana, holding it upright. 

_ In a defensive stance, not an offensive one.  _

_ His Kuroo would never attack someone.  _

Someone like Kuroo was too good for war, far too kind. Despite the situation they were in, the inklings of a smile crossed Kenma’s face.  _ Was now a bad time to think that he was in love? _

Kenma ran to him, he ran as fast as his legs could take him. He couldn’t help but wonder why Kuroo had to be so far away, it was taking far too many strides for Kenma to reach him, it was going to be even harder to get them both out. 

But Kuroo had always been like a magnet to Kenma. Like two opposite forces attracting regardless of what was going on around them. So Kenma had to get to Kuroo. 

He was almost three-quarters of the way there, dodging as many people as he could, eyes trained on Kuroo the entire time, when he noticed it. 

Noticed  _ him.  _

A man was stealthily making his way to Kuroo from the other side. That man may have been on Kenma’s side, but based on the dagger he was pointing in Kuroo’s direction, Kenma had decided he was the enemy. 

“Kuro!” He yelled, begging his legs to go  _ faster,  _ his voice to be louder. Kuroo didn’t  _ hear his warning.  _ Panic boiled up in Kenma’s chest, making him feel so physically ill that he thought his heart was about to stop.  _ No, no, no, no- _

_ No.  _

With everything he had, he ran. He ran at a speed he didn’t know he was capable of, all while screaming Kuroo’s name. He felt hot tears well up in his eyes, but he willed them away. He had to  _ see,  _ now wasn’t the time to cry. 

The attacker had gotten closer to Kuroo, but Kuroo hadn’t noticed him yet. He was too distracted by whoever he was trying to stave off in front of him to notice the man or Kenma. 

Kenma didn’t recognise the man, but he hated him.  _ Couldn’t he go find someone causing actual damage to attack instead?  _

Kenma was so close. 

_ So, so close.  _

He could reach Kuroo in time, he had to. He had to get there, stop that man, and then take Kuroo’s hand and run away with him. 

_ He had to. _

Kenma saw the man pull back his arm, ready to dig his dagger into Kuroo’s back. 

Kenma leapt. 

* * *

20XX, Japan

Kenma woke up gasping for air, clawing at his chest through his sleep shirt. He bolted upright in a coughing fit, his lungs aching with each breath forced out of his chest. 

_ What the fuck?  _

It took him at least 20 minutes of deep breathing to stop feeling as though he were suffocating. No matter how much he concentrated on his breaths, the faint undertone of smoke remained. Kenma rested his head in his hands, drawing his knees up to his chest. He didn’t understand what was going on. 

His eyes began to sting as tears started rolling down his face, his hands scrunched in his hair. 

_ What was happening to him?  _

Kenma was dealing with far too many emotions for this time of the morning. 

He was confused. More confused than he thought he ever had been in his life. That person he had bumped into - Kuro - why did he keep dreaming of him? Why were the dreams so vivid that Kenma could still smell the smoke as though he were actually there? What did these dreams mean? 

He was scared. That dream had shaken him to his very core. The thoughts of all the bodies he had seen made him feel ill, no matter how hard he tried to cast them out of his mind. And he was scared for Kuro. Scared that in that dream he wasn’t going to be fast enough to stop that dagger. Scared that his brain had decided to wake him up right before he could see what the outcome was of that dream. Scared that he was taking these dreams so seriously. 

He was sad.  _ Wait, why was he sad?  _ Was he sad for the town he just saw burn to the ground? Sad for the people who died? Kenma shook his head. No, that wasn’t right. There was something else, something he couldn’t put his finger on just yet. 

It did explain the tears that were now drying on his face, at least. 

There was a dull ache in his chest still. Kenma assumed it was from the workout his lungs just received from trying to calm down. If this kept up, he’d have to take painkillers to make it subside.

Kenma had always considered himself a logical person, and yet there was nothing logical about what was happening to him.

His dreams were so strange, too real and sequential to be mere coincidences. 

Maybe they weren’t dreams at all. 

Kenma bit his bottom lip. As bizarre as that sounded, something about it made a lot of sense to Kenma, as though a piece of a puzzle had fallen into place. 

Memories. 

But certainly not Kenma’s. 

He huffed, putting his head between his knees. This felt like some giant cosmic joke. Kenma must have been going crazy, if he thought he was suddenly dreaming up someone’s odd medieval memories?

And yet, he couldn’t talk himself out of believing that he was right. These were memories and it all had something to do with that hot dude from the park. 

_ Definitely crazy. _

Kenma suddenly understood the phrase ‘desperate times call for desperate measures’ better than he ever had before. He sent a quick text to his most active group chat, before forcing himself to get up and start the day.

* * *

“Wow, Kenma-san! You never ask us to go out with you!” Lev stage whispered across the table of the university library, earning himself a few hisses of “Shh!” from people seated nearby. Kenma didn’t blame them. Libraries being quiet was one of the reasons Kenma loved them, and somehow dragging Lev here had ruined the sanctity of that.

“Yeah, Kenma, do you care to explain the sudden study session?” Yaku whispered, hands on hips. 

Kenma sighed, and leant back in his seat to regard them both properly. He couldn’t tell them too many details, they’d think he was even stranger than he was. But he needed the help, so maybe half-truths would suffice.

“I had a dream about an old medieval battle, and wanted to see if it was real?” Kenma hadn’t meant for that to sound like a question. Based on the looks they gave him, Yaku’s pensive and Lev’s confused, he hadn’t done a good job making it sound like a casual thing. But he hadn’t mentioned recurring dreams, and he certainly hadn’t mentioned Kuro, so maybe he could still salvage their perceptions of him. 

Yaku’s head tilted to the side. “You’re telling me you had a dream, and now want to...what? Solve it. Dreams are dreams, Kenma.” 

“Sometimes dreams can be prophecies though!” Lev exclaimed. 

Kenma couldn’t believe he had reached the point in his life where he was agreeing with Lev. Maybe he was crazy. He found himself nodding along to Lev’s statement.

Yaku huffed, standing up. “Okay, I’ll humour you both. Kenma, what am I looking for? Explain the dream.”

Kenma’s friends were better than he had ever given them credit for. 

“Some weird setting. I’d guess between 1200 and 1600 because of the uh, weapons and stuff.”  _ Who knew that video game knowledge would have been useful?  _ “And there was fire.”

Yaku stared at Kenma as though he expected him to continue to speak. When he didn’t Yaku tapped the desk with his fingers impatiently. “That’s it?”

Kenma didn’t think any of the information about Kuro would help. But there was something else, something that Kenma could see helping. “Something about a place named Karasuno.”

Yaku’s eyebrows drew together. “Karasuno? Like the woods near the park we were at a couple of days ago?” 

Kenma’s mouth opened into an ‘o’ shape. He hadn’t known that. 

It seemed blindingly obvious now.

He nodded at Yaku’s question. “Yeah, exactly like that.” 

Lev’s eyes sparkled from where he was listening in. “This sounds like a prophecy.” 

That was all the encouragement the three of them needed to stand up and begin to look for any book that might be helpful. The aisles full of shelves that spanned the wall to floor, stretching in every direction and way over Kenma’s head, were almost overwhelming. He didn’t even know which books to try and start with.

Kenma’s arms began to ache after a few hours of dragging books backwards and forwards. So many of them were hundreds of pages long and leatherbound, weighing more than any gaming console Kenma had ever tried to carry around. In addition to his arms, his chest was starting to ache. He held his hand up to his chest, right over where the dull stabbing pain was emanating. It must have been from him feeling like he couldn’t breathe that morning, he’s probably bruised his ribs or something equally ridiculous. 

He sat down back at their table, forehead resting on the cool wood. “This is pointless.”

Yaku slammed another book on the table shut, causing Kenma’s head to snap up in attention. “Has it occurred to you that maybe your dream was actually just a dream?” 

Kenma shook his head. “It can’t be.” He could feel it in every fibre of his being that these weren’t just dreams. The thought just felt so  _ right.  _

“I agree with Kenma-san,” Lev added, after returning from putting books that had been deemed as ‘useless’ back on the shelves. “He looks serious about it.” 

Yaku sighed in defeat upon realising he was outnumbered. “Fine, but this library idea isn’t quite working out. Does anyone else have any other ideas? Or should we give it a rest for the day?” 

All three of them lapsed into silence, causing Yaku to look down at his watch. 

“We haven’t found anything on ‘Karasuno’ in 3 hours, and I’ve got class soon. So why don’t we pick this up tomorrow?” 

Kenma and Lev boh nodded, waving at Yaku as he picked up his bag, waving goodbye.

Perhaps tomorrow would bring something more fulfilling. 

* * *

13XX, Japan

Kuroo stood, katana in an upright position to defend himself against the man who was threatening to strike him. 

Kuroo didn’t want to hurt this person, but he had no way of telling him that in a way that the other man would believe. 

The smoke in the air was quickly making it hard to breathe, let alone stay vigilant about his surroundings. 

The thoughts in his head were also making it increasingly hard to concentrate. He was devastated at what was happening around him; what he was causing. He didn’t think Karasuno would be able to win this battle, they just had too much of a disadvantage when it came to numbers and manpower. It saddened Kuroo to think that there might not be anyone left to tell Karasuno’s story, to pass on the information on all the beautiful things that happened here. Kenma had told Kuroo many stories about their traditions and festivals, Kuroo had always wanted to see one. And yet it seemed as though they were about to be erased from history altogether. 

And Kenma-  _ where was Kenma?  _

Kuroo had heard a few whispers that there were people holed up in their great hall, and he could only pray that Kenma was safe and with them. Surely as a strategist, they’d see some value in keeping him alive. That was what was keeping Kuroo going, the thought that somewhere out here, Kenma was alive, and Kuroo could get to him. 

The sounds of katanas clashing and people screaming were all falling deaf on Kuroo’s ears. He couldn’t focus on that. He had to focus on getting away from the person in front of him, only dealing him minimal damage, and then getting away to find Kenma.

He didn’t know how he was going to keep him safe yet, another cause for anxiety in Kuroo’s mind. Could he get him excused? On the grounds that Kenma was a non-combatant, and his strategist mind was beyond useful, maybe Kuroo could get his life spared. If not… Kuroo sucked in a deep breath. He’d just have to run away with him. Surely if they ran far enough, they’d find a small village far enough away from his father’s twisted politics to settle down. Kuroo would make it okay. 

“Do you have any idea what you’re people are doing?” The man opposing Kuroo hissed, snapping Kuroo out of his thoughts. 

_ He did have an idea. _

But he understood this man’s grief. Understood that to him, Kuroo was nothing except the enemy. 

_ Kuroo thought if their positions were reversed, he’d try to kill the first person who he saw on the enemies side, too.  _

Kuroo didn’t get the chance to dwell on that thought for much longer. Upon hearing the sounds of some sort of scuffle behind him, he immediately turned on his heel, disregarding the enemy facing him at the front. He had always been told never to turn his back on an enemy, but something in his chest had begged him to turn around. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted him. 

The first thing he saw was Kenma. His Kenma, standing, back turned away from Kuroo.

The second thing he saw was the dagger sticking out of Kenma’s chest. 

Kuroo dropped his katana immediately, instead electing to gently wrap his arms around his lover, and helping lower him to the ground. 

Kenma’s breathing was shaky as Kuroo lay him down, his eyelids fluttering. 

“Kenma?” Kuroo’s voice was small, his eyes glued to the dagger protruding from Kenma’s chest. 

Kuroo was vaguely aware of the people around him saying something about finding a medic, but Kuroo didn’t heed their presences with much attention. 

There were more important things at hand. 

Kuroo could barely register what was happening. _How did this happen?_ How did he _let_ this happen? Kenma had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and Kuroo had failed to protect him. 

Maybe he’d be okay. He had to be okay. 

Kenma lifted one shaky hand to cup Kuroo’s face, wiping away tears that Kuroo hadn’t even realised were streaming down his face. Kuroo placed one of his hands over Kenma’s. “Beautiful.” Kenma’s speech was nothing but a breathy whisper, but Kuroo heard him as clear as day. 

He’d always done his best to hear Kenma. 

Kuroo’s bottom lip began to quiver, he couldn’t still it no matter how much he willed himself to stay strong for Kenma. “Kenma, please…”  _ Please don’t hate me for this. Please keep breathing. Please tell me it’s going to be okay.  _

_ Please don’t leave me.  _

There was a steady pool of blood spreading around Kenma’s body, soaking both his and Kuroo’s clothes a harsh shade of red. Kuroo could feel its warmth soaking into his clothes and against his skin. 

It made him sick. 

Sobs began to wrack through Kuroo’s body, louder than he could ever remember crying. Each one hurt, his body physically rejecting the scene before him. “Why, why would you do that?” Why would he exchange his own life for Kuroo’s? Didn’t he realise he was worth everything? That Kuroo’s life only meant something if he had Kenma to share it with?

Kuroo didn’t want to live a life without Kenma by his side, didn’t want to live a life without Kenma’s soft smiles and melodic laughter and warm hands, didn’t want to live a life where he didn’t have his meetings with Kenma to look forward to, didn’t want to live a life where he wouldn’t get to watch Kenma grow older.  _ He didn’t want to live a life without Kenma.  _

Tears continued rolling down Kuroo’s face, faster than Kenma could weakly rub them away. Eventually, Kenma retracted his hand, the exertion of holding it up too much for him. Instead, he settled it on Kuroo’s leg. 

“Kuro,” Kenma’s voice was impossibly quiet. “I want to see the stars.” 

Kuroo would have been damned if he didn’t accommodate Kenma’s request. With trembling arms, Kuroo readjusted Kenma as gently as he could, careful not to jostle him and cause any further pain or damage. He positioned him so that his head was in Kuroo’s lap, eyes facing up towards the sky. Kuroo could see the reflection of the night sky in Kenma’s eyes, each like a small galaxy. His dark hair was fanned out of Kuroo’s lap, and Kuroo idly played with the strands with one hand, in the way he knew had always comforted Kenma. 

Kuroo’s chest ached. He couldn’t begin to describe the pain squeezing his heart so tight that he was sure it was going to burst. His heart didn’t want to accept that this was going to be his last memory of Kenma. 

“I love you,” Kuroo sobbed, one hand still carding through Kenma’s hair. “Kenma, I love you so much. Please don’t go.” Kuroo was vaguely aware that he was babbling, but he didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t want to regret not telling Kenma exactly the way he felt, not while he still had these final chances. “I- I loved you the moment I met you.” Kuroo’s voice became too choked up to continue that thought.  _ I loved you the moment I met you. I always dreamed of the day we’d be able to be together properly. You made me happy every single day. You made my life feel as though it were worth living. _

_ Would telling him any of that help? _

Kenma’s only response was a slow blink, but Kuroo understood what Kenma was trying to convey. 

They had always understood each other, even now. Even like this.

“I don’t want to say goodbye,” Kuroo whispered, as softly as he could, trying to steady his voice. It was an echo of their previous conversation, and yet Kuroo hadn’t expected its weight to shift so much. 

What a cruel thing fate was. 

Tears began to leak out of the corners of Kenma’s eyes, a soft whine escaping the back of his throat. “Don’t-” Kenma’s breaths were becoming more laboured as he exerted everything he had left to speak. “Don’t say goodbye.” Kenma took another shuddering breath before continuing. “Say see you again soon.” He hummed softly. “In another life.”

Another sob ripped out of Kuroo’s throat. Even on the brink of death, Kenma was still trying to comfort him. Kuroo couldn’t help but think how  _ lucky  _ he was to have known Kenma in his life. 

His beautiful, soft, brave Kenma. 

“See you again soon,” Kuroo echoed, stroking Kenma’s tears away with the pads of his fingers. “In another life.”

But Kenma didn’t hear him, for the galaxies in his eyes had been extinguished. 

* * *

20XX, Japan

There was nothing Kuroo could do to stifle his sobs as he woke up that morning. The hollowness in his chest was weighing him down, making it hard to breathe. 

Kuroo scrubbed at his eyes with his hands, begging the tears to stop falling. He hadn’t cried this hard since his pet cat had gone missing when he was a child, but this pain, this  _ emptiness,  _ hurt far more than anything he had experienced. 

Kenma had died in his arms. 

It may have just been a dream, but Kuroo had no doubt that it was real. 

Kuroo let out a shaky breath, continuing to rub at his face as sobs wracked through his body, each one clawing at his heart.  _ Kenma had died.  _ Kuroo hated that. Hated what had happened in those dreams. It wasn’t fucking fair. 

Kuroo let his grief continue to fall out of him in waves, each pang hitting hard against his heart. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, wrapped up in the sorrow of a past life he had barely known. It could have been 5 minutes, it could have been 5 hours. 

The vibrating of his phone on the nightstand pulled him from his thoughts, and back to reality. As though he were on autopilot, he answered the phone and held it up to his ear, mumbling a soft “Hello?”

“You missed volleyball practice!” Bokuto’s voice was so loud through the receiver, Kuroo flinched and had to pull the phone back and make sure he wasn’t on speaker. When Kuroo didn’t reply, Bokuto spoke again. “Kuroo? Are you there?” 

“Yeah, Bo.” Kuroo didn’t think he had the strength to say more than that without returning back to sobbing his heart out. 

Bokuto had other plans. “What’s happening?” A slight undertone of concern had found its way into Bokuto’s voice. “Did you have another dream?” 

“Kenma died.” If Kuroo didn’t hear his voice himself, he never would have believed how weak he sounded. 

“Park guy is dead?” That caused Kuroo to roll his eyes. Perhaps he should have explained it in a little more detail.

Kuroo took a deep breath before explaining. “In the dream. Kenma died in the dream.”  _ And it felt too real.  _

“Oh. That’s shit.” Kuroo could faintly hear people yelling in the background of Bokuto’s call, he presumed it was the rest of the volleyball team. Bokuto spoke again after a few minutes, once the yelling had died down. “How?”

“Stabbed.” Kuroo spared Bokuto the details of how much he had cried, what their final words exchanged had been. It seemed almost too intimate to share. “What battles did people use swords in?”

“Kuroo, I’m a sports science major. I have literally no idea.” Bokuto paused before he continued, “Why don’t we do more research today? We can ask Akaashi to unlock the computer labs for us after his class? It should be ending right about now.”

Kuroo nodded, he liked that idea. “Alright, I’ll meet you there soon.”

* * *

True to his word, Bokuto was standing outside of the computer sciences building, waving his arms above his head as he saw Kuroo approaching. “Hey hey hey!” He exclaimed, wrapping his arms around Kuroo in a bear hug as he reached him. “You doing okay?” 

“Yeah, doing pretty alright.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. Whatever spell he had been under that trapped him in the claws of grief had seemed to pass, instead being replaced with a keen motivation to solve his mystery. “Sorry about missing practice.”

Bokuto only laughed at this, slapping a hand against Kuroo’s back. “It’s no biggie, we practice enough anyway! I covered for you and everything.” 

Kuroo couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face. Bokuto was a better friend than anyone had ever given him credit for. “Thanks, Bo, I appreciate that a lot.” 

Bokuto tilted his head to the side, in a very owl-like gesture. “Eh? Don’t tell me the dreams are making you sappy on me. Save it for when you find Kenma.” Bokuto began to push Kuroo through the doors of the computer sciences building. “‘Kaashi’s waiting for us inside, let's go meet him!” 

Kuroo let Bokuto lead him through the building, eventually opening the door to a room on the first floor, revealing rows of desktop computers on benches. Akaashi idly leant against one, scrolling through his phone.

“You two are late,” Akaashi deadpanned, looking up at them. “All the students left half an hour ago.” 

“Sorry, Akaashi!” Bokuto apologised for both of them. “We appreciate you hanging back, but this is kind of an emergency.” 

Kuroo sat down at one of the computers closest to the door, booting it up and waiting for it to turn on. 

“An emergency?” Akaashi echoed. “Is there any reason that you couldn’t do this from your own laptops? Or phones?”

In truth, Kuroo didn’t have an answer to that. He had just gone along with whatever Bokuto said, expecting it to be some sort of ploy to see Akaashi. Lucky for him, Bokuto answered the question. “These computers are linked to the library databases.” 

_ Kuroo did not know that. _

Akaashi hummed in approval. “That’s fair, what are you looking for? Can I help?” Akaashi pushed off against the bench he was leaning against, walking over to join Bokuto in standing behind Kuroo. 

“Yeah!” Bokuto answered for Kuroo. He was glad for Bokuto, Kuroo didn’t know how to explain this to someone as well-put-together as Akaashi without sounding like a complete lunatic. “Kuroo’s been having weird dreams and we’re trying to solve them.”

_ Okay, so now they both sounded like complete lunatics.  _

Kuroo looked at Akaashi through the reflection of the computer monitor, but instead of a condescending expression, Kuroo saw Akaahi’s eyebrows press together, as though he were pondering something very deeply. 

“Strange dreams?” Akaashi’s voice was hesitant, as though he were offering up an answer to the meaning of life. 

Kuroo swivelled around on his office chair, slowly, as though not to distract Akaashi from his thoughts. “Akaashi, what are you thinking?” 

Akaashi’s head snapped up, his green eyes meeting Kuroo’s. “What are your dreams about?” 

Kuroo and Bokuto exchanged a look, and Kuroo shrugged. If Akaashi hadn’t run away yet, Kuroo may as well tell him the details. “A war, mostly. Some intense battle. And some guy called Kenma.” 

Akaashi’s eyes widened, and he lifted a hand over his heart. 

Kuroo had never been so confused in his life.  _ Was Akaashi having weird dreams too _ ? That seemed like the only explanation.  _ Or maybe he was having some kind of heart attack. _

“Did you say Kenma?” Akaashi’s voice was a whisper, as though he didn’t want to break the sanctity of their conversation with his voice. 

Kuroo hesitated for a split second. “Yeah, Kenma… Why?” 

Akaashi looked at Bokuto, as though he were trying to confirm something. Bokuto only looked confused. “My friend said he’d also been having strange dreams.” 

If Kuroo thought he was confused before, now it was like he was trying to solve a chemical equation with half the elements missing from the periodic table. “Okay, and?”

“His name is Kenma. Kozume Kenma.”

All three of them fell into silence after that.

Had Akaashi Keiji held the key this whole time? Had it really been right under Kuroo’s nose?

Millions of thoughts were racing through Kuroo’s head.  _ Could he be the one? Had he really been this close all this time? Was he really Kuroo’s soulmate? _

Bokuto, on the other hand, was having different thoughts. “You know someone called Kenma?” 

“You know him too, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in disdain.

“I do?” Poor Bokuto sounded genuinely confused, but Kuroo was intrigued.  _ Did everyone seriously know this guy except him? _

“Yes, he joined us on our trip to the city last Summer. But you refused to call him by name. You called him ‘pudding-chan’ that whole day.” Akaashi’s tone was soft, Kuroo didn’t know if he was scolding Bokuto, or just informing him. 

“Oh.”

That was all it took for the room to descend into chaos.

“Bokuto Koutarou, are you  _ fucking  _ telling me you knew him the whole time?” Kuroo may have sounded angry, but the grin across his face let Bokuto know that he wasn’t serious. He was fucking  _ elated.  _ The fact that this meant that they were sharing their strange dreams made it all the more meaningful.

Bokuto wore a sheepish grin. “I didn’t remember him?” 

“How could you forget someone that looks like that?” Kuroo yelled. One of the only pleasant parts of Kuroo’s dreams had been how damned  _ beautiful  _ Kenma was. 

“Hey! Don’t look at me like that! He was quiet and hid behind his hair the whole time!” 

Kuroo was done trying to yell at Bokuto. Instead, he leapt up from his seat, wrapping one arm around each Bokuto and Akaashi in a tight squeeze, laughter bubbling in his chest. They had done it.  _ He found him.  _

There was one very important matter still at hand, however. Kuroo had to  _ meet  _ him. “Akaashi, what’s his phone number?” 

Akaashi blinked once, and then twice at Kuroo, as though he had grown another head. “I can’t just give you his phone number without his consent.”

_ Akaashi’s manners were the enemy he hadn’t been expecting, the final knife in his back.  _

“Akaashi, he’s probably my soulmate. I think an exception can be made here.” Kuroo was going to scream. Akaashi’s politeness had never been so annoying.

Akaashi considered it for a moment, placing one hand on his chin. “What if it isn’t him, though?”

Kuroo  _ really  _ didn’t want to think that right now, not after everything they’d just talked about.  _ What the fuck had happened to positive thinking? _ “Okay, but what if it is?"

“What are you even going to say to him?” Bokuto asked. “I mean, it’s probably him.” Akaashi glared at Bokuto in response to that. “But if it’s not, then like, you’d just sound crazy.” Bokuto added to the end, trying to put himself back into Akaashi’s good graces. 

“Okay, but consider this: if it’s not him, then I really don’t care what he thinks about me.” 

Akaashi only gave Kuroo another hardened stare, as though to say ‘you really are a sad, whipped asshole’. Kuroo rested his head in his hands, plopping back down onto the chair of the computer lab. Akaashi wasn’t going to budge on this.

Kuroo would have respected him for it, if he wasn’t the one on the receiving end of his unyielding loyalty to his friends. 

“I have a better idea,” Akaashi started. Kuroo looked back up at him, hope written across every feature of his face. “I’ll admit this situation is strange, and I can’t say I entirely believe it, but it’s important to note that Kenma is the kind of person who becomes… disgruntled, with new social settings. I don’t want him to be overwhelmed. So I’ll bring him to you. And we can see if you recognise each other.” 

While this wasn’t Kuroo’s initial plan, he couldn’t complain. He rose from his seat again. “Okay! Let’s go!” 

Akaashi’s nose scrunched up. “Not right now, Kuroo-san. I’ve asked him to come to your volleyball game tomorrow already. Since I didn’t want to go alone. I’ll make sure he’ll be there. At least it will feel natural, that way. If it’s him, that is.” Akaashi finished. 

Kuroo huffed.  _ A whole day was a long time!  _ Especially when he felt this close to finally being united- reunited?- with him.

But if this was the only way, then Kuroo supposed he’d accept it. His chest tightened in anticipation.

He offered Akaashi another smile. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

* * *

For the first time in a week, Kenma didn’t dream.

* * *

Kenma was sick of his phone ringing. Sick and tired. Yet another morning, and his ringtone was assaulting his ears. 

Kenma sat up, reaching across for the offensive device, before he froze in place, arm outstretched. 

_ He hadn’t dreamt last night. _

He didn’t know how to feel about that. On the one hand, it was nice to have a sense of normalcy back. Some of those dreams had been so alarming, he was glad to see the back of them. But then again, something was also unsettling about the lack of dream, like a piece of him was missing.

_ Why did they stop?  _

He wasn’t going to let that deter him from finding out the meanings of it, though. 

If they started for a reason, they must have stopped for a reason. Kenma just didn’t know what yet. 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair to push the blonde strands out of his face.  _ Maybe he’d go back to the library today.  _ After he answered his phone, that was. 

Lev must have had a death wish, to be ringing in the morning again. 

Kenma resumed his motions of going to pick up his phone, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw ‘Akaashi’ as the caller ID. Akaashi wasn’t known for making phone calls. Kenma couldn’t actually remember the last time he or Akaashi had even rung each other, as they both preferred texting. 

Kenma’s chest tightened. He really hoped this wasn’t an emergency. 

“Akaashi?” He asked, holding the phone up to his ear.

“Good morning, Kenma. I hope I didn’t disturb you.” Akaashi’s voice was smooth. Kenma let his shoulders slump. This didn’t sound like an emergency, at least. 

“You didn’t.” Kenma didn’t want to make Akaashi feel bad for waking him up, no matter how annoying it really was. Akaashi was one of the few people Kenma had tolerance for, at this point. “What’s up?”

Akaashi sounded like he took a deep breath. “The volleyball game is today.” 

_ Crap, Kenma had forgotten all about that.  _ He certainly didn’t want to go. He had things to do! Books to read, websites to search through.

Kuros to find. 

Kenma had to come up with an excuse that Akaashi would believe, and not get offended. Contrary to popular belief, Kenma did care what his friends thought of him. “I think I’m getting sick.”  _ No one would want to be around a sick person, right? _

“That’s okay. You can still come.” 

One of these days Kenma was going to catch a break. 

“Akaashi, I shouldn’t-”

Akaashi cut him off. “Kenma, I need you to come.”

Kenma sighed. He had so many more important things to be doing! He quickly turned to face the clock on his bedside table, reading 10:40. If the game was at 7P.M.… He probably had enough time to do ample research during the rest of the day, and then make the game. Hopefully he’d solve it in that time. Or at least think of a way to find Kuro. 

But he was not going to make this easy on Akaashi. “If I go, you have to confess to Bokuto.” 

“Fine.”

_ Well, Kenma was certainly not expecting that.  _ Akaashi must have been incredibly serious about Kenma coming to this stupid volleyball match. Not that Kenma was complaining. The sooner those two pining idiots got together, the sooner he could finally know peace. 

“I’ll see you there.” 

It was going to be another long day.

* * *

Kenma was in a bad mood by the time he finally made it to the university’s gymnasium. He’d spent so long skimming through articles online that his eyes burned, and his back ached due to the countless hours he’d spent hunched over his screen without moving a muscle. 

And he’d still found nothing. 

Just to top it off, now he had to watch a  _ sports game _ , something he’d been avoiding for years. Who wanted to see sweaty dudes run around after a ball? Not Kenma, that was for sure.

But he had promised Akaashi, and therefore had to haul his ass to the gym on a Friday night, giving up the chance to terraform in  _ Animal Crossing  _ as a relaxation activity after all that reading. 

Akaashi was waiting for him by the entrance of the gymnasium, two tickets in hand. His body language looked tense- his arms folded over his chest, and his fingers fidgeting with the tickets. It made Kenma uneasy.  _ What was up with Akaashi lately anyway? _

It must have been the nerves of having to confess to Bokuto. 

Guilt began to gnaw at Kenma’s gut. He hadn’t meant for Akaashi to feel at all negative about this. He thought it’d be a healthy shove in the right direction.

“Akaashi, hi,” Kenma said, approaching him. Akaashi waved back at him. Kenma wanted to get one thing out of the way before they started their evening, though. “Look, I didn’t mean to overstep my boundary and force you to confess to Bokuto. That wasn’t fair.”

“Actually, I appreciate it. I think it’s something I’ve needed to do for a long time.” Akaashi’s voice was steadier than his body language had been, still as smooth and solid as Kenma had always recalled it. “I’m kind of excited.”

“Oh, okay. I’m happy for you, Akaashi.”  _ But that didn’t explain why Akaashi was acting so weird. _ Perhaps he was more nervous than he had been willing to admit to Kenma. 

“Thank you. Shall we go in?” Akaashi asked, prompting Kenma to nod. They walked to the entrance, Akaashi handing his two tickets over to the bored-looking student who was running admissions, and they quickly found their seats, close to the front (also known as the perks of being best friends with one of the star players). 

Akaashi’s nerves only seemed to increase as they sat down. Although he could keep his expression neutral, his hands gave him away. He was playing with his fingers too much, fidgeting them almost non-stop. Every couple of minutes, he’d pull out his phone, sending a few messages, before shoving it back into his pocket.

_ Bokuto, maybe?  _

Kenma didn’t have time to dwell on that thought for much longer, because while waiting for the match to begin, Kenma saw one singular player on the court. He wore a face that Kenma thought he could have recognised anywhere. Same high cheekbones, same mess of black hair, same lithe body. 

Same Kuro. 

He appeared to be scanning the audience, as though he were trying to spot a friend. Kenma wasn’t sure what to  _ do. Would he think he was crazy if he approached him?  _

Gingerly, Kenma stood up from his seat, causing Akaashi to turn and look at him. “Kenma?” Kenma didn’t reply. He was too busy staring at Kuro in the flesh. 

_ As stupid as it sounded, Kenma wished that he was the one that Kuro was looking for. _

Akaashi spoke again. “Kenma, you recognise him, don’t you?” Kenma turned his head to look at Akaashi, tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, only giving a slight nod, his bottom lip trembling. 

Akaashi lifted one hand to Kenma’s back, lightly pushing him. “Go.”

_ Kenma had so many questions for Akaashi later.  _ (And maybe a couple of thank you’s, too.)

But he couldn’t think of that right now. All he could think about was  _ Kuro, Kuro. Kuro.  _

Kenma began to descend the stairs of the stands, making his way to the centre of the court where Kuro stood. Once he had reached the outskirts of the court, however, he hesitated.  _ What if Kuroo didn’t know about any of this?  _

What if he thought he was weird? Or disliked him?

Those thoughts dissipated from Kenma’s mind the second Kuro spotted him, because stretched upon his face was the most  _ relieved _ smile Kenma had ever seen someone wear in his life.  _ He was beautiful.  _

Kenma’s body began to move on autopilot, running to meet Kuro in the court. Kuro was running to him, too. Like magnets attracting. 

Kenma didn’t care who was watching as he made his way to Kuro. No doubt people were staring, but they didn’t matter to him. The only thing that mattered to Kenma at that moment was Kuro.

Once they had finally met in the middle, Kuro looked at Kenma for a split second, before reaching forward and drawing Kenma into his arms. (Kenma had always hated physical affection. And from a stranger, he thought it’d be awkward at least.) 

But it wasn’t. Not today. Not when Kuro felt like the home Kenma had never known he’d belonged to. 

“You’re real,” Kenma mumbled into Kuro’s chest, soaking in all the warmth of Kuro’s tight embrace. It was just like he remembered in his dreams. 

“Yeah, I’m real,” There was so much joy in Kuro’s voice that Kenma could do nothing but stop the grin spread across his face too.  _ Kuro was real.  _ “And you’re alive.” 

Kenma pulled back from Kuroo’s embrace, just soaking in how Kuroo was here at this moment. His eyes were rimmed red, as though he had been crying. It made Kenma’s chest ache a little. “Of course I am?” 

“You died. In the dreams.” 

_ Oh.  _

“I did?” 

“You did. You died for me, Kenma.” Kuroo’s voice cracked at the end of that statement, and for a split second Kenma was worried he was going to start bawling in the middle of the volleyball court. Instead, he lifted one hand, and tucked Kenma’s hair behind his ear.“So why don’t you live for me this time instead?” 

A bright blush spread across Kenma’s cheeks, painting them red.  _ Okay, so he was still a walking sap, good to know the dream-version of him was exactly like the real one. _

“Why don’t we get coffee first?” Kenma asked, refusing to break eye contact with Kuro. God, Kenma couldn’t even believe this was happening. It was so smooth, too. Like he knew exactly what to say to Kuro without missing a beat, nothing making it awkward. 

Kuro’s grin grew wider, matching Kenma’s own. “That sounds good.” He reached over to take Kenma’s hands in his own. “I’m Kuroo, by the way. Kuroo Tetsurou.”

“Kuro.” 

Kuro gave Kenma’s hands a light squeeze. “Yeah, Kuro.” 

“I’m Kozume Kenma. Just Kenma is fine, though. It’s nice to meet you, Kuroo Tetsurou.” Kenma whispered, taking a step towards Kuro to close the gap between them.

“It’s nice to meet you too, just Kenma,” Kuro replied, ducking his face down so it was mere inches from Kenma’s own. He could feel his hot breaths tickling his skin. “Can I ask you something a little bit crazy?”

Considering this whole situation was a little bit crazy, Kenma was in no position to deny Kuro his question. “Please.”

“Can I kiss you?” Both of their blushes intensified at that question.  _ But God, did Kenma want Kuro to kiss him.  _ Kenma nodded slightly, leaning in as though to signal Kuroo that it was okay, awaiting the bliss of a kiss he’d literally waited a lifetime for.

The moment their lips met, a singular shooting star flew over the skies of Japan.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaand that's all!!! Thanks so much for reading!! Please tell me what you thought, or come say hi on Twitter [@kodzukuro](https://twitter.com/kodzukuro)
> 
> EDIT: this now has beautiful art done by fai [here](https://twitter.com/kodzupie/status/1263133382659108869?s=20) !!


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